by Sybil Nelson
Josh obviously needed more proof. And I needed reinforcements in order to get it. Just then, the devil twins ran through the kitchen, each sporting freshly painted green hair. I didn’t know why their hair was green and I didn’t care. I just needed their help.
I stopped them both, holding them by their collars so they wouldn’t run off.
“You guys up for a game?”
For the past year or so, Charlie and Chester had perfected a game they liked to call Snot Wars. Basically, they earned points for hitting certain predetermined targets with none other than their very own snot. Yes, they would press one nostril closed and then, after taking a deep breath, aim a snot rocket at an inanimate target. We had to limit the boys to inanimate objects after Max Montgomery ran away from being the victim of one too many snot attacks. I don’t know where they got an endless supply of snot from, but I swear, I’ve seen Charlie hit a lamp shade from ten feet away.
Josh and I kept our belongings safe by telling the twins that if any snot ever fell on any of our stuff, they’d earn negative points. That was enough. They were so into their game that they had their own scoring system. Right now Charlie had forty hundred gazillion trillion points, and Chester had thirty fifteen hundred million bazillion points. I wasn’t sure who was winning.
Given the fact that Stefanie was in the local newspaper for sending ten thousand text messages in the month of July alone, I just assumed that she would have some little love notes written to Trevor on her annoyingly pink sparkly Blackberry.
In order to distract Stefanie long enough for me to snatch her phone, I told the twins that there was a target in the house worth a hundred billion trillion gazillion points. The target: Stefanie’s mouth.
Josh knew something was going on when he saw the twins skulking around the living room in their blue camouflage Osh Kosh B’Gosh overalls. They were stalking their prey. I guess I should’ve told them that the war paint was unnecessary.
“Priss, get the twins out of here. They’re up to something,” Josh called while wrapping a protective arm around his girlfriend.
“What? They can’t play in their own house? They’re fine.” I peeked into the living room from the hallway and noticed that Chester and Charlie had worked out an attack plan through a series of hand signals. Charlie was going to distract Josh while Chester went in for the first shot.
Charlie dug a half-eaten Twinkie out of his pocket and lobbed it at Josh. Josh leaped off of the couch and charged after him. But little Charlie was quick. As Josh’s pursuit of the Twinkie-thrower spilled out into the backyard, Chester jumped on the coffee table, closed a nostril, aimed, and fired.
Stefanie’s wild screams filled the house as she manically wiped snot off of her forehead. She shot off the couch and ran to the bathroom, giving me the opportunity to rifle through her purse. Once I had the phone in my hand, I ducked into a corner and scrolled through her text messages.
“What’s going on? Why is Stefanie screaming?” Josh asked, bursting back into the house.
“I missed.” Chester poked out his lip, crossed his arms, and flopped into a chair.
“Missed? Missed what? Oh God, not Snot Wars.” Josh ran to the bathroom to find Stefanie.
Seconds later, Josh emerged from the bathroom and screamed, “I’m gonna kill you, Chester!”
“Josh, wait,” I said, stepping in front of him. “He’s not the one you should be mad at.” I held up the phone as he started reading countless text messages from Stefanie to Trevor, or as she put it “Sexy Trevy.”
“I hope you’re going to punish that little beast!” Stefanie yelled when she came out of the bathroom.
Josh didn’t respond to that request. Instead, he silently handed over her phone and said, “How could you?” before sulking off to his room.
Stefanie’s mouth flew open, giving Charlie the perfect opportunity. He won the hundred billion trillion gazillion points.
Chapter 12: The Painful Pen
Josh didn’t come out of his room for two days. I felt really bad for him. I offered to let him win at Street Mania, but he wasn’t interested. I tried to tell him I knew how he felt. I mean, I had not only lost the love of my life, but my best friend, too. But I wasn’t really ready to talk about that situation. Especially after what happened a few days later.
I was sitting in English class, trying to stuff an X-Men comic into my literature book so that I could read something interesting during class, when Spencer took a seat next to me. I had to admit, my heartbeat started to race. I mean, even though he had rejected me for Tai and we hadn’t spoken since his Labor Day party, it didn’t make him any less cute.
“Hey, Priss,” he whispered, leaning toward me. This was supposed to be quiet reading time. I loved this part of class because I got to relax in a bean bag and forget about my worries. And I had a lot of worries lately.
“Hi, Spencer,” I whispered back.
He didn’t speak for a few minutes as he focused on his Chronicles of Narnia book. But I could tell he wanted to say something the way he flipped back and forth between the same two pages. I watched him out of the corner of my eye. He was wearing a faded red Van Halen t-shirt and a pair of raggedy, holey jeans. He looked amazing.
“Are you going to the River Day Dance?” he asked finally, staring at me through his shaggy hair that hung over his eyes. The River Day Dance was a stupid town tradition in which we were supposed to dress up like pilgrims or something and celebrate the founding of the town. The only people who ended up dressing up were the over-sixty crowd. The young people usually ditched the festivities and went home to watch TV. The only time it was worthwhile going to the River Day Dance was if you had a date and you were in love. In that case, it was really old-fashioned and romantic.
“Um, I don’t know. Maybe.” I shifted nervously in my seat. Maybe Spencer realized he loved me instead of Tai. Maybe he was about to ask me to the River Day Dance.
“I asked Tai,” he said, dashing my hopes and crushing my spirit once again. I just wanted to jump up and run out of the classroom, but my butt was kind of stuck in the bean bag chair. After two attempts at trying to hop up, I gave up and flopped back down. Spencer didn’t notice my difficulty. Instead, he said, “She said no. She doesn’t want to go to the dance with me.”
I thought I noticed a tinge of hurt in his voice. He didn’t look at me. He just kept absentmindedly flipping pages in his book.
“Sorry,” I said with a shrug. I felt bad that I didn’t really feel bad. So what if Tai didn’t want to go to the dance with him? What did he want me to do about it?
Spencer closed his book, turned to me, and said, “Look, I know you two are tight. Do you think you can talk to her and find out why? I mean, she won’t talk to me. I think I did something wrong but I don’t know what. Can you just tell her I’m sorry?”
Oh his eyes were amazing. They were even more gorgeous when they were filled with love. Why couldn’t that love be for me?
I knew what he had done wrong. He had fallen for the wrong girl. Tai would probably never go out with him because she knew it would hurt my feelings. I felt terrible. My selfishness was getting in the way of their happiness. I was so lost in my thoughts, I barely noticed when Spencer left and Kyle sat down in his place.
“Remember in the third grade when I said something about your hair color?” he whispered to me.
I nodded.
“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I actually liked your hair color. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I … I … I still like your hair color.”
I looked over at Kyle sitting cross-legged on the floor next to me. He had a first-edition Incredible Hulk comic stuffed into his book, but he’d chosen the wrong size book, and the edges of the comic poked out. He was sure to be caught by Mrs. Talendy.
“If Spencer doesn’t like you, he’s an idiot and it’s his loss,” he added. “You’re the greatest girl ever. I’m sure you’ll get a date to the dance.”
Before I could say anything, he got up, tucked his
book and comic under his arm, and scurried to the other side of the room. Why was he being so nice to me? I must have been really pathetic for Kyle Montgomery to actually feel pity for me. Was it that obvious how I felt about Spencer? Or maybe Tai had told him everything.
“Tai told me everything,” Kyle said outside of math class two weeks later. He had gotten in the habit of following me around everywhere and asking me stupid questions like could he carry my books and what type of candy did I like. Ugh. Boys could be so weird sometimes. Since Tai and I weren’t friends anymore, I just let him hang around so I wouldn’t have to be alone.
“Everything about what?” I was so nervous I dropped my math book. Kyle scrambled to pick it up for me. I knew it! That little traitor had pulled a Lando Calrissian on me. She’d turned against me just like Lando turned against Han Solo in Return of the Jedi. If she told him about my powers, then soon the whole school would learn how she got so scared at the fourth grade camping trip that she peed in her sleeping bag and had to share mine. I had tons of secrets on her and I wasn’t afraid to use them.
“She told me that it’s her fault you two aren’t talking but that you won’t give her a chance to apologize.” Instead of handing me back my math book, he tucked it under his arm and then held the door open for me so I could enter the classroom.
“She said that?” I flopped down in my favorite seat in the back. It was the desk right behind Susie Chambers whose head was so big she nearly completely hid me from Mr. Witherall’s wandering glass eye. “Did she really say that?”
Kyle nodded as he took the seat next to me and placed my book on my desk. I sighed and slid down into my seat. I felt so guilty about not talking to Tai for twenty-four days. It wasn’t really her fault. How could I blame her for how Spencer felt? After four years of friendship, I was willing to let a stupid boy get in the way.
I spent most of class thinking about what I could say to Tai to get our friendship back on track when suddenly,“Priscilla,” Mr. Witherall called in his creepy, deep, raspy voice. “I asked you a question.” Oh snap! Did he really ask me a question? I was totally not paying attention. I looked at Kyle for help. Maybe he could tell me the answer or at least the question. But Kyle just shrugged as he mouthed, “Sorry.” He wasn’t paying attention either. His hands were under his desk playing a game on his iPhone.
Not knowing what else to do, I yelled out, “Seven.”
Everyone laughed. Apparently that wasn’t the answer.
“No, Priscilla,” he said, shaking his head in that teacher way that translated into “I really don’t get paid enough for this.”
“I asked you to come to the board.”
“Oh, yeah, I knew that.” I scooted out of my desk and made my way to the Smart Board, which was what Mr. Witherall used to teach class. The computerized pen along with the special screen allowed him to animate problems and stuff to make class more interesting. It didn’t work. Stepping into his class was getting into a boxing ring with sleep as my opponent. Sleep usually won. And I always wondered, if the board was so smart, why did we need a teacher?
The pen felt heavy in my hands, and after I held it for a few seconds, it sent a surge of energy through me that was so painful I had to drop it. “Ouch!” I yelled.
“Oh, I’m sorry. It must have a short in the wiring or something,” Mr. Witherall said casually as if he really wasn’t sorry at all. He picked up the pen and pressed a couple of buttons on it. Just then the bell rang, ending class. “Okay, students, do the problems on page forty-three for tomorrow.”
As everyone filed out of the classroom, I kept my eyes on that pen. If there was a short in the wiring or something, how come it had never shocked him? Then I noticed that he put the pen in a drawer and locked it before hurrying out of the classroom. Why didn’t he put it in the holder on the side of the screen like he always did?
“Did you see that?” I asked Kyle as he packed up his backpack.
“See what?”
“Mr. Witherall put the pen that shocked me in a drawer.” I was still rubbing the pain out of my hand. It felt like the electricity went straight to my bones.
“So?” he asked.
“So, isn’t that weird?”
He shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt by it.”
“Maybe.” I thought about that for a second and then said, “But it didn’t shock him. As a matter of fact, it hasn’t ever shocked anyone. I don’t know. I just have a weird feeling about it.”
Kyle shrugged again. He just didn’t get it. “Uh, it’s lunch time now. Do you want to sit with me?”
“Nah, I’m not really hungry,” I said, staring at the drawer where the evil, painful pen had gone. After a few seconds I realized Kyle was still standing next to me.
He tossed his backpack over his shoulder and stared at the ground. After running his fingers through his sun-bleached hair, he said, “I have a photo shoot in New York this weekend, but I thought that when I get back we could get together and play Street Mania or something. I’ve been practicing.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” I said, just wishing he would leave so I could get into that drawer with the pen.
“Great! I’ll call you Sunday. Is it okay if I call you?”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.”
“Great! Bye, Priss.” Kyle dashed out of the room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I had to figure out a way to get into that drawer and study that pen. But what good would it do for me to look at it? What were the chances I would understand it? I needed someone who was good with technology. Someone smart. Someone I could trust. I needed my best friend. I needed Tai.
Chapter 13: Kyle Loves PMS
The next day, I found Tai sitting in a swing on the playground during lunch.
“Hey,” I said, jamming my hands in my jeans and kicking an invisible stone.
“Hey.” Tai took out a napkin, placed her sandwich into it, and neatly folded it up. I guessed the sight of me made her lose her appetite.
“Why aren’t you eating with the eighth graders?” The eighth grade students of Polk Middle had the best spot in the cafeteria: the three tables right in front of the soft serve ice cream machine. Basically, no one else got ice cream unless they were approved by an eighth grader or won the Ice Cream Challenge. Last year, Tai and I used to dream about being invited to sit with them. Sixth graders got laughed at if they even attempted to go near the ice cream machine. Seventh graders got invited once in a while, but now that Tai was technically an eighth grader, she should’ve been able to sit there without an invite. She should’ve been stuffing her face with ice cream instead of sitting alone in a swing set.
Tai shrugged. “They say even though I’m in their class that I’m still a seventh grader and I haven’t earned the privilege.”
“Well that’s ridiculous,” I said, crossing my arms. “If you’ve earned the right to take classes with them, then you’ve earned the right to eat their stupid ice cream. It’s not their machine, anyway. They don’t own it.”
A silence exploded between us as Tai played with a string on her peach floral skirt and I twisted my hair around my finger. I didn’t know what else to say. Well, I knew I needed to apologize, but saying sorry is a very hard thing to do. The words kept getting caught in my throat.
“Have you noticed I’m the only black person in town?” she said finally, breaking the silence.
I nodded. “So? I think that’s cool. You’re unique.”
“I’m the only seventh grader taking eighth grade classes. I’m the only twelve-year-old and the only girl on the U.S. science bowl team.”
“So?”
She sighed heavily and her shoulders sagged as she stared at her feet and clicked her black Mary Jane shoes. “I’m sitting in the playground eating a homemade turkey sandwich by myself, because I have no friends and everyone thinks I’m some sort of genius freak.”
I finally started to understand where she was coming from.
“I’m a weird outcast. You�
�re the only friend I have … or had. Even my parents don’t have time for me. I just wanted to be your friend, not the ‘brilliant black girl from the Bend.’” Tai’s lip quivered and she wiped away a tear.
Now I felt even worse. She thought I was her only friend and I had cast her aside over a stupid boy. Tai felt completely alone in the world. It was true that there was no one else like her. But was that a bad thing? I was pretty sure there was no one else in the world that could shoot fire from her fingers. We could be lonely freaks together.
A knot developed in my throat. Before I knew it, it was hard for me to see through the tears.
“I’ve been a complete and total jerk,” I choked out. “I’ll understand if you never want to talk to me again. I’m so sorry, Tai.”
“I’m sorry, too,” she said even though she really didn’t need to apologize. She jumped out of the swing, dropping her sandwich in the dirt and tackling me with a hug. We both sobbed so much we kinda had to hold each other up.
